Lost Stars
by LupusAmator
Summary: It started out with a washing machine flood. How did it end up like this? (modern au)


There had been a lot of things Zoro had to put up with in his lifetime. The main brunt of it was his disbelieving father and sister, both of whom had laughed in his face when he said he was going to college and, therefore, was going to live alone. Perona had laughed hard enough to bring tears to her eyes, her hands clutching her stomach as she rolled on the floor. Even Mihawk managed to lift his mouth into a shape larger than a smirk, which in his case meant he was practically roaring with laughter.

Zoro had gotten offended, shouted a few choice swear words, slammed a few doors, and had landed himself a place in some faraway college where his family were hours and hours away and he never had to listen to them chastise him ever again.

But, more than ever, Zoro was glad for the hundreds of miles between them right now. In fact, he had never been gladder, as he stared down at the soapy water that lapped against his boots and surrounded the whole laundry room; the bubbles piled high atop the "rose petal" smelling liquid.

The washing machine had flooded on him.

Zoro couldn't believe it. Barely a month in and something so humiliating had already happened to him. To be honest, he had had no clue on how to work the machine, but he figured if he pressed a few buttons, poured some perfume smelling liquid in a pocket and pressed the 'on' button, nothing could possibly go wrong. Because, hey, he was in the middle of the twenty first century; machines were supposed to be able to do things on their own with minimal instructions, right? _Right_?

Well apparently not, if the watery disaster around him was anything to go by.

Groaning, Zoro aimed a hard kick at the side of the machine, glaring when the loud bang it made wasn't enough to satisfy his anger. "Who paid you, huh?" he demanded, giving it another kick for measure. "Was it Mihawk? Did he pay you to do this to me, to show me that he's right? That he's always right?"

Zoro had never really felt the desire to call his father, well, _father_. He could never shake the feeling that in another world the cold man was his rival. It wasn't as if Mihawk was begging to call him son, either, the two always having a more business-like relationship than anything a father and son should have. Hell, Perona had more of a relationship with Zoro than he did with Mihawk, and they were always at each other's throats.

Muttering "You stupid fucking machine," under his breath, Zoro waded through the water, trying to ignore how uncomfortable it was to his now sodden feet, trying now to open the lid to get his probably ruined clothes. But, _of fucking course_, it wouldn't budge, the door deciding to rub salt in his wound by locking itself so that there was no way Zoro could open it.

Around this time Zoro was starting to get angrier, feeling more humiliated, and he didn't think it could get any worse. Until a loud, booming laugh echoed around the laundry room, making Zoro jump hard enough for the water to splash further up his trouser legs.

"That's hilarious!" At the sound of the voice, and the continuing laughter, Zoro turned with a scowl to see a young man (boy?) stood at the doorway, a joyous expression on his youthful face as a grin stretched his mouth.

Overall, there were three factors that Zoro noticed about the boy. The first thing he noticed was the scar under his left eye, which was quite odd, the second being that his black hair was incredibly unruly for three in the afternoon. The third was that he wore a shirt that was undone, showing some serious abs. Zoro had abs too, and had seen many in his lifetime, but he was still impressed.

Then Zoro, as slow as he was, noticed the large pile of laundry the boy held in his arms, overfilling to the point that a sock managed to fall and land with a small splash in the flood. "Shit, man, did you need the washing machine?" he asked, staring at the sock floating in the water. "'Cause I kind of broke it."

"It's fine," the boy replied back with a giggle, his black irises falling to the sock too. "I'll just use the soapy water on the floor instead." And, as Zoro watched in horror, he promptly dropped the large pile on the floor and kicked it, using his bare feet to mix the clothes around so that they spread out.

"Are you crazy?" demanded Zoro, who started to make his way to clearly crazy boy. "Do you know how many germs there are on the floor? And you're going to let your clothes soak in that filth?"

The boy just laughed in response and jumped into the water, kicking the water hard enough for it to reach and soak Zoro all through his last – _last_ – clean shirt. It did well in stopping him in place, giving him a second to think that his day literally could not get any worse.

"Hey," the kid called, pulling him out of his depressing thoughts. He had a bubble plaited moustache (how the fuck he managed to do that, Zoro had no clue) and goatee on his face and a bubble chef's hat on his head, his body leaning to the side with his hands resting on his waist as he stared Zoro down intensely. "Look, I'm Zeff."

Zoro stared at him.

The kid started again. "I'm Zeff, you know, the chef on TV? Peg-leg and stupid moustache?" At Zoro's emotionless gaze he shook his head slightly. "No? Don't know him?"

"Of course I fucking know him; he's fucking everywhere!" Zoro replied. "I just didn't find it funny because I'm literally stood in the middle of a fucking river." To emphasise his anger, he even kicked the water at the kid, but it only made him shriek with laughter, the bubbles completely forgotten about as he picked up a handful of water and flung it in Zoro's face.

There was a brief second where Zoro thought about just leaving, not bothering about gathering his trapped clothes, and just going back to his dorm for a nice afternoon nap before he hit the bar. Instead, he picked up the floating sock – which had now arrived at his feet – and threw it so it slapped the boy right in his chest.

Before he knew it, they were both rolling around in the water, bubbles and soaking wet pieces of clothing being thrown around the small laundry room, both laughing as they tried to dodge whatever wet missile the other was throwing at them, something of a challenge occurring to them both as they tried to bring their rival down.

It wasn't until Zoro was holding the kid down, some soaked clothing in his hands as he tried to force it on the laughing kid's face, that someone came into the room.

"What… the actual hell?"

At the sound of the girl's voice, Zoro and the kid beneath him both whipped their heads to the door, where a ginger-haired girl stood with a small basket of neatly folded clothes held in her arms. She had a look of utter disgust on her face. "Are you putting dirty boxers in his face?"

"_Huh_?" Zoro looked down and found that yes, he was actually holding dirty underwear and that yes, he was putting the same dirty underwear in his face. The kid giggled, trying to keep quiet, as if he knew they were both in huge trouble if he laughed any louder. Throwing the clothing away, Zoro tried to look innocent. "This is really not what it looks like."

See, this is what it looked like: two drenched young men wrestling on the floor, one with his shirt wide open, and underwear in the other's hand. If Zoro had walked in on such a scene, he would have thought there was something going on. Which was exactly why he was able to understand the disbelief on the girl's already disgusted face.

"It's bad enough you've broken the only washing machine in this building," she started, pointing a finger at the still bubbling machine, "but then you used it as an excuse to jump your boyfriend? _Inexcusable_."

"Wait, no." Zoro struggled to get off the boy. "I don't even know his name-" He realised pretty quickly that was the wrong thing to say, the girl's face now turning sickened and around 100% worse than it was before. Zoro felt the sinking weight of a _bad sign_ fall into his stomach.

The kid sat up next to Zoro, still giggling, but he managed to poke Zoro. "My name's Luffy," he said. "Nice to meet you!"

There was no possible way Zoro could bring himself to tell him his name, let alone that he thought it was nice to meet him, too. Instead he turned to the girl, hoping his innocent look was still on his face, but knowing his usual pissed expression was there, instead. "Look, can you keep quiet about this? It really isn't what it looks like. We were just… playing with the water. It was innocent, I swear."

The girl stared him down. Finally, she sighed and looked resigned. "I hate sport students," she told them almost proudly. "So pay me £100 and I'll keep quiet."

"£100!" protested Zoro, the_ bad sign_ feeling in his stomach getting heavier. "You do realise we're students, right? There's no fucking way I can afford that." There was, after all, a reason he was using the only free washing machine in the building.

"Fine," the girl held up five fingers. "£150."

"That's even more!" Zoro shouted, at exactly the same time Luffy yelled, "Deal!" and threw up bubbles in the air, a large grin still stretched across his face. Zoro felt like his soul had left his body. He couldn't even speak or move from the kneeling spot he was currently in.

"£150 it is, then." She beamed and gave the two a finger waggle, before disappearing round the corner, the sound of her happily humming easily reaching them in the room.

"Oi," Luffy poked him again. "You never told me your name. You're funny, I like you." And he laughed, as if he didn't just have to pay a debt to a money-stealing woman. "I even told you my name, so you kind of have to tell me yours now too."

Zoro fell onto his hands and knees. "Why?" This would be where Perona and Mihawk would be nearly pissing their pants, a _"told you so"_ managing to escape between their bellows of laughter at his expense. "I can't believe this." How had it happened like this? Zoro didn't deserve this; he had been a good little boy, or at least as good as a green-haired angry kid could be.

It was that kid, Luffy, Zoro realised. It was all because of him that he was in this mess. But when he looked up at him, determined to demand he pay the full amount for all his tricks, he found that Luffy was right in front of him, concern in his young face. "Are you getting a cold?" he asked, genuinely sounding worried. "I heard that happens when you spend a long time in water in your clothes."

"My name's Zoro," he told him instead. The boy returned the sentiment with a massive grin, one that shocked Zoro by how sunny it was. It was like the sun had literally manifested itself in this kid's face.

_Oh no_.

"Zoro." The word rolled off the boy's tongue easily, sparking unwelcome delight in Zoro's chest. "I do think I like you after all, Zoro." And he laughed, _shishishi_, somehow bringing a smile on Zoro's face, no matter how much he tried to stop it.

_He was cute._


End file.
